


how strange, innocence.

by captaintiny



Series: Explosions in the Sky [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Pre-Series, i cannot believe i got my shit together enough to finally write this, my sweet baby angels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaintiny/pseuds/captaintiny
Summary: Pre-Series AU.  Percy and Vex have both run away from home, but their reasons are worlds apart. They meet in a chance encounter and spend several days in each other's company. They learn more from each other than they had initially anticipated.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katyfaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/gifts).



> Explosions in the Sky are perhaps my favourite band of all time. I've had the idea to write a series of fics based off of their discography for a few years; one fic for each album; one chapter for every song, and I finally found a pairing that felt right for the project. You should all listen to their music; it's phenomenal. Beautiful instrumental tracks with so much feeling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regarding freedom, a failed theft and a night by the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fic of the series, based off of the first EITS album. You can listen along whilst you read but it's not necessary. None of the fics in the series are linked so they do not have to be read in order, and you can skip whichever ones you like. I hope you enjoy it!

On the 26th of September, Vex steals away from Syngorn. It is the early hours before sunrise, and she has been lying awake almost all night. The hushed whispers of  _half breed_ and stares of those around her that make her feel 3 inches tall settle heavily on her chest, and she decides enough is enough. She leaves a hastily scribbled note for her brother on top of her sheets, stuffs a few essentials into a pack, and then she runs.

Guilt and fear follow Vex through the trees. She knows Vax will come looking for her the moment he realises she is gone; she knows she probably should have waited for him, but the city is becoming almost claustrophobic and Vex knows if she stays a moment longer she will suffocate. Her hand lifts almost instinctively to her neck, where her mother's necklace hangs. Vax will find her. Vax will forgive her.

_No more. I am a child of Byroden and Syngorn cannot hold me._

Determination lights a fire in her blood. Filled with a new resolve, she takes a deep breath and continues to run. Syngorn holds no joy for her; no love. It has never been her home. The world is open before her as memories of her father's cold remarks float away on the breeze behind her, dissipating like smoke. She keeps going; through the trees and towards her new found freedom; away from the judgement and venom of every one of her peers; until the air starts to burn in her lungs and she reaches the edge of the forest.

She pauses for a minute, looking at the far distant lights of the nearest town, glittering like tiny stars in the darkness. All that she owns now are the clothes on her back and the locket around her neck. She knows how to live on the streets, thanks to her brother; how to dart unseen through crowds and lift food from market stalls or coins from pockets. She certainly knows enough to avoid unwanted attention. 

_It is time to disappear._

~

It is the 28th of September when Percy watches his world shatter. Cassandra drops like a stone in the snow next to him and it feels like the last part of his heart has been ripped out of his chest. Hot tears blur his vision as he keeps fleeing south; he has to keep running; she would want him to keep running.

An arrow flies past his ear and embeds itself in a tree just ahead of him. Anger and terror flood his chest and he pushes forward, muscles in his legs screaming in pain. He can hear his pursuers behind him and forces himself to keep going; blinking the tears out of his eyes and gritting his teeth. These people had taken everything from him, and he isn't going to give them the satisfaction of claiming him too. 

The trees thin out and give way to wide open space. Percy casts around desperately, looking for something, anything to aid in his escape. He can't keep this pace up much longer; the adrenaline will only carry him so far before his body gives up. He notices a snaking line of blue a way off, and grimaces as he realises it might be his only chance of escape. Voices sound behind him, closer than he would have liked, and he almost trips in his attempt to quicken his pace. He focuses all his energy on reaching the river, blood pounding in his ears and every breath a stabbing pain in his chest.

Percy jumps, making a silent prayer to any god that might be listening, and crashes into the icy water. All the breath is forced from his lungs as the cold hits him. It takes all his strength to kick up to the surface, and he floats, staring at the sky, utterly spent, all feeling already seeping out of his limbs. The current carries him downstream, but the temperature combined with his exhaustion is trickling into the corners of his vision in a black haze. He is vaguely aware of two or three stray arrows piercing the water around him, but his mind is too clouded to pay them much attention. 

He closes his eyes, and lets the river take him away.

_I will make them pay._

* * *

They do not meet, however, until almost 3 weeks later, when a chill has firmly established itself in the October air and the streets of Emon are full of bodies wrapped in thick woollen cloaks and the promises of warm homes to return to. A pair of small grubby hands snatches a pie deftly from a market stall and slips it quickly out of sight. There is a metallic tang in the air which whispers of harsher weather to come as Vex ducks into a nearby alley to eat her prize. She savours every mouthful of the hot pastry, relishing the warmth it leaves in her stomach, staving off her hunger and the harsh bite of the wind. 

She tries to stretch the sleeves of her jumper a little further over her hands, attempting to dispel the numbness accumulating in her fingers, thinking of places she can go to avoid the cold, when movement from the other end of the dirty side street attracts her attention. A tall figure is trying to make himself as small as possible hunched against the wall. A shock of white hair covers his head, although it looks almost grey from all the soot and dirt that has caught in the strands. His clothes look fine; expensive; his jacket looks brand new but as though it has accrued years of filth and wear in a very concise space of time. He is clearly not accustomed to the streets.  

This is exactly why Vex decides to take advantage of him, and swipe the inviting looking coin purse dangling loosely from his belt as she darts past. However, it would seem she has underestimated him, because as her hand closes around the small purse, an arm has snapped out and has a grip on her wrist that is a little too tight to be comfortable.

~

Percy looks up at the dishevelled figure he currently has in his grasp. She has long ebony hair which hangs in a thick braid down one side of her face. There are smudges of dirt on her cheeks, and her clothes are just as filthy as his own, but her smile is wide and undiminished and there are two bright blue feathers tucked behind one of her pointed ears.

"You are a runaway." He says, and it is not a question.

"Yes," the girl replies. She cocks her head to the side slightly, frowning a fraction of an inch. "So are you."

"Why are you trying to steal my money?" The inquiry is moot, but Percy asks nonetheless.

The girl shrugs noncommittally. "A homeless girl has gotta eat, posh boy."

Percy stiffens, suddenly wary. "Why do you call me that?"

"Well you haven't exactly come from the slums, have you?" She keeps smiling, gesturing at his clothes.

He relaxes a fraction, realising his hand is still firmly circled around her bony wrist.

"What is your name?" He asks, a little more curtly than he intends, releasing her.

"Elaina." The name slips off of her tongue as easily as oil off a hot spoon, and Percy knows it is a lie.

_Two can play at that game._

"Oliver," he replies, holding out his hand politely and ignoring the familiar tug in his chest at the mention of his family.

Elaina returns his handshake, smiling at little at one corner of her mouth as though the gesture amuses her, then she casts her eyes around, looking for something, and finds it in the frame of a nearby doorway. She sits down on the ground inside the alcove and settles her back against the wood, looking up at Percy expectantly like she expects him to join her.

He looks over at her, bemused. "Is everything alright?"

"Well aren't you going to sit down too?" 

Percy hesitates. Elaina rolls her eyes.

“The floor isn’t going to bite you, posh boy. It’s a little less bitter out of the wind.”

Percy considers her for a moment. He decides to sit, if only so he can begin to decipher the puzzle of a girl currently occupying the space beside him.

They rest for some time in companionable quiet, grateful for the shelter that their little hideout provides. Percy cannot hear much except for the steady murmur of the crowds beyond the alley and Elaina’s slow measured breaths as she flexes her fingers to regenerate the blood flow.

He suddenly becomes uncomfortably aware of just how close they are and flushes. He hasn’t known her for more than 5 minutes and all she has done is tried to rob him and introduce herself; yet here he is, huddling together with her for warmth. It leaves a peculiar, unfamiliar sensation in his stomach which he decides he doesn’t like, and hurriedly gets to his feet, brushing off his jacket and clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I should be going. It was good to meet you, Elaina.”

She looks up at him, her face a perfect mix of offense and bewilderment. “What? Why?”

“I just think it’s better if we go our separate ways.”

Elaina just laughs. “Okay, posh boy. If you say so.”

"Goodbye, Elaina."

She does not say anything else in return as Percy turns to leave, merely smiles again from the corner of her mouth, as if she has a secret about him that he doesn’t know himself.

Elaina begins to follow him before he even leaves the alleyway, making no effort to conceal the fact she is doing so. Percy continues to ignore her, hoping that she will eventually get bored and fall back, but after ten full minutes of being pursued despite his attempts to shake her off, Percy wheels on her irritably. Her grin is wide and mischievous, which only serves to irk him further, but he is also somewhat perplexed.

“Is something the matter?” She asks, effortlessly maintaining an air of mock innocence.

"I appreciate your sentiment, Elaina, but I would much rather be alone and I must insist that you leave me be."

"I could do that, but since I’ve decided I’m going to look after you, I’m just going to follow you around until you give up and let me join you."

Percy frowns at her, more than a little affronted by the implication that he can’t take care of himself. He goes to speak, but she cuts him off before he can get the chance.

"You're obviously new to this. You can't have been on the streets very long, and you're going to need someone like me to stop you getting into trouble."

"I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you." He retorts.

"Oh really?" Elaina raises an eyebrow sceptically. "Tell me dear, how exactly are you going to look after yourself without any money?"

She raises her hand and dangles his coin purse from one hand, eyes twinkling playfully. Percy snatches it back from her and stuffs it back into his pocket. She laughs; the sound is light, full of mirth and completely at odds with her tattered appearance.

She meets his gaze and smirks. "So is that a yes or no, posh boy?"

"Very well." He says, sighing resignedly.

Percy does not accept her offer because he truly believes he is in need of protection. Nor is he in need of company; his own is quite enough, but there is… _something,_ about her which intrigues him. She is unlike anyone he has ever encountered before, although perhaps the social circles in Whitestone were a little too restricted for him to have mixed with someone like her anyway. Everything about her is vibrant; animated, and Percy can’t help but be somewhat pleased – for reasons he cannot quite place – that he has acquired her as a companion.

Elaina continues to smile, but her eyes darken just a touch. “Come on then. If we leave now, we’ll make it to the bridge before the sun sets.” She says nothing else, but it is what is left unsaid that unsettles Percy. Her voice holds gravity that seems to be far beyond her years, and he gets the impression she has seen violence on these streets in the twilight far more than she should have done. He nods, and gestures for her to lead the way.

She guides the two of them away from the main square and towards the river. They do not speak much, falling into a companionable silence, and Elaina hums to herself quite contentedly as she ducks between buildings, not a single person paying the slightest attention to the unlikely pair making their way through the city. The streets begin to quiet as they travel further out, and by the time they reach their destination they are the only two souls in sight.

Elaina immediately begins to scavenge for firewood, and Percy takes a moment to absorb his surroundings. She has brought him to the underside of a large bridge. The road above eventually leads to the main gate; where the path below leads he does not know. The brick that makes up the base of the bridge is blackened with soot, and he deduces they are not the first people to use this place as shelter.

“Are you going to help or are you going to continue to stand there and gawp? Have you never seen a bridge before, posh boy?”

Percy is pulled out of his thoughts and looks over at Elaina, who is standing with a handful of wood scraps and looking somewhere between amused and unimpressed. He scowls.

“I have a name, Elaina. And yes, of course I’ve seen a bridge before.”

“Stop pouting, posh boy and find some stones we can use to light this with.”

Percy goes to retort, but she has already turned away and his quip is lost in his throat. He frowns for a moment then turns his attention to the ground, looking for flint. It takes him a while, but eventually he finds enough to create a spark. Elaina is waiting by the entrance to the underpass, lying next to a pile of carefully constructed timber.

“About time too,” she says, without opening her eyes. Percy finds himself smiling, which throws him.

The sun is just beginning to set as Percy lights the fire. He ponders Elaina the entire time, but still she does not make sense to him, so when the crackle of the flames fills the silence and the heat begins to wash over both of them, he steals another glance at her.

In the flickering glow that the fire casts under the bridge, she could almost be a ghost. Her features are sharp and distinct; her cheekbones are high and her nose, like her ears, is long and pointed. Freckles pepper her skin, as though someone has flicked a paintbrush at her face. He can see her collar bone as her jumper shifts; it juts out a little too far for Percy to be comfortable. He thinks he can the edge of a bruise darkening her shoulder underneath the dirt, and he winces inwardly, feeling immediately guilty, as though he has discovered a secret he was never meant to be told.

“Why did you run away?” He blurts out. He doesn’t mean to ask, and certainly not as bluntly, but his curiosity gets the better of him as always.

Elaina turns to look at him over the fire. Her wide, brown eyes bore into his own and he sees everything and nothing in them all at once; there is an almost infinite depth to them, as though any façade that might have been there has been stripped away by too much time spent avoiding unwanted attention and fighting for respect. Then she blinks, and the moment passes.

“Daddy issues,” she says with a wry smile. It fades a little, and she drops her gaze. “I was – am – a disappointment to him.”

For once in his life, Percy keeps quiet, allowing Elaina the space to continue should she choose to. She seems lost in the light of the flames for a moment, an emotion close to shame passing over her face, but she shakes her head almost indiscernibly, and looks up again, all traces of sadness gone from her face.

“And you, posh boy? What brought you out of your nice warm bed?”

Percy wishes he could return her smile as the distant sound of screams and his mother’s voice telling him to run echo in the back of his head. He feels a little nauseous.

“My family died in a fire.” He replies, blankly. It isn’t exactly a lie. “I managed to escape, barely.”

He takes a quick glance up at Elaina. He isn’t sure why, but her expression makes him want to continue.

"I don’t remember much. I woke up on a fishing boat. They told me I’d been unconscious for 3 days. My hair turned white some time that week; it’s a bit of a blur. I’ve been travelling south since. I don’t know what’s left of my home.”

He falls silent, the pain in his chest almost constricting. His throat closes up and he swallows, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry.” Elaina says quietly. Percy nods in thanks, not trusting himself to speak.

A hush falls over the makeshift camp. Neither of them know exactly what to say, and the darkness deepens as both of them stare into the crackling flames, grateful for the warmth it gives them. A thrush settles on a bush a few feet away, chirping merrily. It grabs Elaina’s attention and she gasps in delight, watching it with bright eyes and a wide smile.

Percy has little interest in the bird, choosing instead to study Elaina; the way her head shifts in tiny movements to mirror the thrush’s; the way she leans as far forward as possible towards it; the way she giggles quietly as it pecks a berry from the branches beneath it. After several minutes it flies away, and Elaina’s eyes travel skywards with it until it is out of sight.

She suddenly becomes aware of Percy looking at her and turns to him. She smiles at him faintly, and suddenly he is looking into the face of someone who has been forced to grow up far too fast.

"Always take the time to appreciate the little things. It keeps you from being going mad."

Percy has nothing to say in response and simply holds Elaina's gaze. After a long while – Percy is not exactly sure how long – she looks away.

“It’s getting late, posh boy. We should get some rest.”

She pulls two blankets from her pack and throws one at Percy. He catches it, settling himself down and pulling the fabric close around his chin.

Elaina curls herself up into a tight ball, hair tumbling around her face. "Goodnight, Oliver," she murmurs from underneath her tresses.

Percy notices her use of his name, or rather, his alias. He isn’t sure what it means, but it feels comfortable. "Goodnight, Elaina."

He closes his eyes, and over the noise of the fire he can hear Elaina singing a quiet, lilting melody. It is in Elvish; there are some words he is not familiar with but from what he does understand, he assumes it is a lullaby. Percy knows it is not for him.

He falls asleep with the rich, dulcet tones of her voice lingering in his ears, mixed with the occasional trot of horses passing overhead, still trying to unravel her mystery.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this fandom is one of my absolute favourites to write for. Yall are so lovely. Kudos and comments always appreciated. <3


End file.
